Hard, Harder, Hardest
More than any other endeavor in life, parenting makes me feel incompetent. At work, there are new tasks to figure out, challenges to overcome, and changes to absorb, but once the rough patch is passed, or the process adapted, or the task learned, I've got it down.
Learning a new skill: research, watch a YouTube video maybe, practice a little, and voila. Gardening: do x, y and z the roses bloom. Cleaning, organizing, budgeting or just about any other thing I’ve tackled over the years – after the learning curve, we’re good. Sure, there’s always room for continual growth and refinement (why, yes, people have accused me of being a perfectionist, why do you ask?), but those are extra icing on the cake.
Kids on the other hand…the very second I start to feel like I’ve got it down - maybe even feel a tiny bit of smug satisfaction that I’ve mastered some small part of being a good mom - life and my kids step up to smack me down and remind me I have no idea what I’m doing.
Parenting is a moving target; what worked yesterday might be totally the wrong thing tomorrow - it might be the right thing next week, or never again for the rest of our lives. There are no fixed points, no always right ways to deal with challenges, no manual of easy-to-follow processes. The minute we start to feel comfortable: BOOM, and what the hell just happened?
Parenting is the single most humbling thing I’ve ever even attempted to do– even more so that bowling, and I’m truly terrible at bowling (land-on-my-back-in-the-lane terrible). But I can just quit trying to bowl. You never get to quit trying to be a good enough parent…never.
I try something new, or keep plugging away at the old hoping we’ll see some movement, have some success, have something be easy, or easier. I try to be here – processing in real time. I talk and try to really listen. I try to pay attention and hold on to my patience (sometimes with sweaty, desperate fists). I just keep trying. But it seems I am always left asking, “What the hell am I doing?” and maybe that’s the best sign there is that I’m good enough.
Learning a new skill: research, watch a YouTube video maybe, practice a little, and voila. Gardening: do x, y and z the roses bloom. Cleaning, organizing, budgeting or just about any other thing I’ve tackled over the years – after the learning curve, we’re good. Sure, there’s always room for continual growth and refinement (why, yes, people have accused me of being a perfectionist, why do you ask?), but those are extra icing on the cake.
Kids on the other hand…the very second I start to feel like I’ve got it down - maybe even feel a tiny bit of smug satisfaction that I’ve mastered some small part of being a good mom - life and my kids step up to smack me down and remind me I have no idea what I’m doing.
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| A moment of things going just right |
Parenting is the single most humbling thing I’ve ever even attempted to do– even more so that bowling, and I’m truly terrible at bowling (land-on-my-back-in-the-lane terrible). But I can just quit trying to bowl. You never get to quit trying to be a good enough parent…never.
I try something new, or keep plugging away at the old hoping we’ll see some movement, have some success, have something be easy, or easier. I try to be here – processing in real time. I talk and try to really listen. I try to pay attention and hold on to my patience (sometimes with sweaty, desperate fists). I just keep trying. But it seems I am always left asking, “What the hell am I doing?” and maybe that’s the best sign there is that I’m good enough.
